Read Poems by
Maddie
Knickel

Below are poems written by poet
Maddie Knickel. Click the Next or Previous links below the poem to navigate between poems. Remember, Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth. Thank you.

Book 3

(What have I done? This is
all my fault. He has never left
like that. What if he doesn't
come back? What about Maya?
Oh, shit! Maya!) I flew up
throwing the chair behind me. I
ran up the stairs, every step an
obstacle to my beaten legs.
When I reached the top I
was barely breathing, too much
had been taken out of me. I
captured my breath and
shuffled to Maya's room. I
gazed over her bed, but she
wasn't there.
"Maya? Huney? It's okay," I
coaxed. There was no
response. I laid down on my
stomach and lifted her pink
quilt to look under her bed. All I
saw was darkness. I was
overcome by complete
confusion and concern. Every
time he had beaten me before,
I had come to find her tucked
under her bed, but she wasn't
there.
"Maya?" I croaked. I lifted
my self up and surveyed the
room. Small slivers of light
shone through the cracks in the
blinds. The pale pink paint on
the walls was chipping,
revealing the old wooden
planks that the wall was made
of. The carpet was stained
many different shades of brown
and was littered by old stuffed
animals. My eyes drifted to the
white closet doors. (The
closet!) I walked to the closet
and pulled the doors open.
"Maya?" I said searching the
darkness.
"Mommy?" she said
crawling out of the corner of
the closet. I collected her in a
firm embrace, burying my face
in her shoulder. Her dainty
frame pressed against mine,
her soft brown curls brushing
up against my cheek. "Mommy?
What's wrong? I heard the
screaming," she placed her cool
hands on my cheeks. I sat
there in silence because i was
too afraid of the answer. I don't
know how, but it seemed as if
my six year old daughter was
always braver than me.
"Nothing baby. It's okay
now. Daddy just got a little,
umm, upset," I said grabbing
her hands.
"Come on Mama, let's go,"
she stood, pulling me up by the
wrists. I stood, acknowledging
her suggestion. She lead me
out of her room and down the
hallway. She stopped at the
door to my room, calm as can
be. "Daddy? Come on now. I
know you're mad, you come
out here and you two make
up," she ordered knocking on
the door. We stood there in
silence, no response. I began to
weep. She was unaware of
what had happened just down
the stairs. "Daddy, I'm coming
in now," she turned the knob
and pushed the door open. She
walked in to see the empty
space. "Mommy, where's
daddy?" her eyes began to
swell with tears.
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